Happenstance
by BE-Mistress
Summary: [AU] Having moved to a new neighborhood, Rikku didn’t think her past would follow her. Desperate for answers and guarded in emotions, she never expected devastation would be in the form of a friend.
1. Running to the End of the World

_A/N: __**Completely, in every way, shape, and form, alternate universe.**__ Special thanks to __cupcakegirl__ and __Jezzi__ for editing._

* * *

**Happenstance  
**_1FRICKENgirl  
_Chapter 1: Running to the End of the World

* * *

you told me to wait  
and don't forget  
cause you'll be late  
but won't forget  
and jus'cause it's fate  
don't you regret  
when things were great  
you can't regret  
and there'll be no hate  
don't stay upset  
you're only eight  
and not upset  
_not upset  
no regrets  
don't forget  
_I told you to wait

* * *

"What d'ya think you looking at?" he growls as the box of cutlery drops on the hard cement floor with a piercing shatter. My heart jumps at the sound, and I bite my lip in an attempt to hold back my anger at his recklessness. "She's not interested, got that? So fuck off," he says.

I flinch at the tone of his voice, my fingers curling around the smooth bend of our welcome mat. A part of me wants to assure him it's alright, that I can handle guys like them. But I know he'll snap back, and I know he'll bring _it_ up. And _it_ belongs in Bikanel. Left to rot and decay and be forgotten in Bikanel. I don't want it here.

He picks up the box effortlessly, swinging it to rest on his shoulder, his hand balled into an angry fist.

I glance away as I feel their eyes tentatively fall on me one last time, before looking back to Aniki with amusement and turning around to continue down the sidewalk. They mumble, "_Fuckin' Al Bheds…"_ or something like it as they leave, but for once, Aniki lets it go. The air is tense for a moment, and then he comes behind me and says in a gruff voice, "Hurry up, Rik. I got work in an hour."

I nod at him mutedly, picking up the carpet roll and a heavy bag of random ornaments before closing the car trunk. We walk up the concrete steps, and he pulls the door open for me to go ahead of him. The stairs echo with our heavy footsteps, until we reach the second floor. I pull the door open for him, but he gestures for me to go through first.

The hallway is empty, smelling of old cheese and Pops' dirty socks. The lights are dim, creating a somewhat haze all around us, almost dreamlike if it weren't for the smell. We walk in silence until we reach our apartment door. We put our belongings on the cluttered, dusty ground, and he tells me to search through one of the boxes for a baseball cap. He doesn't want me showing my face.

We make a couple more trips up and down until the last of our belongings are taken out of the car and we close the empty trunk. Once we enter back into the apartment, I mention to Aniki that he'll be late for his first day of work if he doesn't leave immediately. Pops is still down at the construction site; he said he wouldn't be home until late in the evening. Aniki hesitates for a moment, pausing to stare long and hard at the messy living room floor. Then he suddenly turns and gives me a cautious look.

"Don't let _anyone_ in," he warns. "Don't answer the phone, don't answer the door. You stay right here until Pops comes home."

I glance down. I hate that he always treats me like such a child now. Now when I'm merely a year away from being officially adult. "I know," I mumble quietly.

He pats my shoulder reassuringly. "Besides, there's a lot of cleaning to do 'round here. Better get started."

He leaves a while later, locking the door himself, not wanting passing neighbours to see my face if I were to be the one closing it. I slump down on the hardwood floor and reach over to the box of cutlery pushed against the wall. The corners are bent where he dropped it, and its sides are bruised from being squished in the car so hastily. I use my nails to tear open the tape, and carefully open the lid to reveal the damages.

A few plates are cracked along with a cup or two. I pick them up gently and watch as grains from the fissures crumble and fall, the glass coating making them glisten like tiny teardrops in the afternoon sun. I unpack them all, putting aside the broken ones and examining each of the others just in case. I stop when I realize that a piece of Mom's mug has fallen off.

My hands become shaky, and I bite my lip fiercely at Aniki's unparalleled stupidity. I try to put the little green piece back in place, but it threatens to fall every time. I then lie it down on the coffee table, gently on a piece of cloth, before rummaging through all of our boxes and bags for some glue. Every failed search builds up my anger, every failed attempt feeds my rage, and I am about to burst into insanity when I've put the last box down and realize that I still haven't found the glue.

_Tysh oui, Aniki. Tysh oui,_ I mentally repeat, my mind numbing at the sight of the broken green mug. My mother's mug. Her favourite mug. The one she drank coffee from every morning, happily telling me "_Have a nice day!_" before sending me off to school. The one she drank cool water from every hot summer afternoon when I went outside to play. The one she drank warm tea from every night she sat up in the kitchen going through the bills, rocking me soundly to sleep in her lap. No memory of her is as vivid as the memory of seeing her bring the shiny green mug to her pale pink lips, her eyes gazing distantly forward before turning around to give that special smile she only reserved for me. A smile that hugged me, laughed with me, and protected me from the unknown world. A smile only preserved in my mind and weakly brought back to life in the faint reflection of the shiny green mug.

_The car!_ I realize, remembering that Pops had asked me to bring the glue to him yesterday when he was fixing the dashboard. I make a run for the door, but Aniki's warnings freeze my steps.

I stomp angrily, knowing he'd never understand if I explained it to him. He never liked talking about Mom. He always told me to shut up when I did. But my fingers are itching, and my heart is aching to piece back together her memory before it's too late to revive it in this strange, new city. That her memory will be forever stuck back in our old home, her prevailing smile fading away as she realizes we've left her behind.

I grab my jacket from the sofa, and grab my keys from the table. It's a quick trip down to the car and back up. _Nothing will happen to you, Silly_. I don't press the thought any further, for fear of changing my mind, and instead spur out of the apartment and pull down my cap.

I stare at the ground for guidance, my face being so shielded that I can hardly see where exactly I'm going. But I reach the car in no time, having been up and down repeatedly today, and I search frantically in the front seat for the little white tube of glue. I find it a few minutes later in the back, on the floor, and put it safely in my coat pocket. I lock the car doors and am about to run back inside when a figure blocks my way. A lump drops in my throat.

I glance up just enough to see his torso. "E-Excuse me," I choke out in the most polite way I can.

"I'm sorry. It's just… are you new here?" the man asks with a hint of amusement to his voice, and for a moment, I think I recognize it. "You're really pretty."

I try and walk around him but he blocks me again.

He laughs. "What's wrong, am I scaring you?" He touches my arm slightly, a dark blue band-aid on his thumb. "I just wanted to ask for the time…"

I slap his fingers harshly away and push past him with a grunt as I race up the building steps and inside. I can hear my quick heartbeat and my loud gasps of breath thundering in my ears. I just want to go back into our apartment.

Aniki's warnings echo again in my ears as I run up the stairs, my surroundings blurring around me, and I begin to wonder if I'd run up too far. But that one second of wonder consequently makes me lose my concentration, and I trip over a step and forcefully fall forward. An unfamiliar pair of sturdy arms catches me.

I don't have time to regain my breath. My hat has fallen off, and I can't look up. I mumble a quick thanks and turn around and run some more, but I trip again, and once again my savior catches me.

"Hey, slow down," he chuckles softly, trying to steady my shaky form with his strong hold. "Are you alright?"

I feel fearful in the empty stairwell, the stranger's hands firmly grasped around my wrist, and I immediately regret ever coming out in the first place. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you," I blurt, trying to wrestle myself away but can't for lack of stability on the inclined ground.

He finally gets me to balance, and I break away instantly, knowing that I had certainly passed the second floor and immediately want to go back down. He jogs down after me. "Wait! Your hat!" he calls. But I don't stop, my pace increasing at his every word until he reaches out and grabs my shoulder to turn me around, and I accidentally look up at him. I stop running.

He smiles kindly. "Your hat," he repeats, placing my red cap in my hand.

But I am too stricken by surprise to even realize it. My stare never leaving his right eye, unusually covered with a stretchy black eyepatch. My breathing slows back to normal and I almost forget why I'm in the stairwell in the first place.

He knows what I'm staring at, and shakes his head and turns away. "It was an accident when I was little. No big deal."

I tear my gaze away from him and look down, embarrassed. "I'm sorry," I say impulsively, not exactly sure what I was apologizing for. Strangely, though I'd never met him before, I felt as if it were my fault.

He shrugs simply. "Don't worry. I get the same reaction from people every time." He pauses, then glances back down at me with a curious look. "Did you just move here?"

I don't answer. I don't run this time; but I don't answer.

He smiles. "'Cause I think I would've remembered someone like you." He chuckles lightly and pats the side of my pocket as he walks past me. "Had fun savin' you, Clumsy," he says with a playful smirk before disappearing down the stairs and out the glass building doors.

When I get back inside our apartment, I find that my tube of glue and the six dollars from my pocket are missing.

**- - - - - - - -**

The spokesman's voice softly resonates throughout our quiet apartment, filling the air with a sort of warmness and comfort like one of those Christmas postcards you always see in December with the fat furry cat nuzzling by the picture-perfect fireplace. Pops reminds me of the fat cat. Lying on the couch with a pillow over his head, its position slightly changing with every breath and snore. Beside him is his cleanly eaten TV dinner – chicken and potatoes this time, and an empty Coca Cola can next to it... beside another can from this morning. He'll want another when he wakes up.

Aniki's singing in the shower; has been for nearly a half hour now. But his voice is too dim to damage the warm atmosphere of our living room, and the rhythmic sound of running water drowns out his bad singing voice. Mom always said he had a lovely voice, and could be the next big thing. But I always knew she was just trying to cheer him up. She was nice like that, lying to us so often.

A knock on the door startles my father, and he wakes up with a sleepy, "WhhHuh_hh_?" He sees me on the floor near him, just as confused, trying to tape together the green mug. He then glances at the clock, and shouts in a commanding, angry, voice, "WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

There's a short pause. "…U-Uncle Cid? I-Is that you?" comes the muffled voice from behind the door. Her voice pierces through our postcard living room, giving me a blast of exhilaration that tears the sereneness apart.

My eyes bulge wide in surprise and I leave the mug on the table as I bolt up from the floor and race towards the door. I throw it open and immediately jump on my older cousin with an excited squeal, wrapping my arms around her and pressing my face into her shoulder with love. "Yunie!" I shout and laugh all at once, ready to cry if my excitement was going to drive me to it.

She laughs with me and hugs me back with equal cheerfulness. "Why didn't you call me and tell me you arrived?" she says in a teasingly accusing manner.

I scrunch my face in shame. "I – I kind of forgot," I lie.

She makes a cute little 'o' shape with her mouth and places her hands on her hips in mock anger. "You little -"

"-Meanie, I know." I give her my best puppy-dog eyes. "I'm sorry, Yunie."

She laughs it off as my father calls her to come inside. "Where's your mother, Yuna?" he asks as she enters.

"Still at the shop." She suddenly turns to me and pokes me lightly. "Hey, you should come down someday and see it. We just got an entire shipment of fresh orchids yesterday. You'd love them so much."

I smile in response to her enthusiasm. "I can't wait to see them!"

"Why don't you come with me right now?" she suggests with a grin. "Before it gets darker. It's only a few blocks away."

I open my mouth to answer when Pops interrupts me. "Rikku's starting school tomorrow. She needs to get ready."

My cousin glances back and forth between my father and I, a bit confused. "B-But it'll only be for a while, Uncle Cid," she explains. "Besides, we haven't hung out in mont-"

My father's eyes cloud in a somber darkness and his tone is dead serious. "I'm sorry, Yuna. But Rikku is busy. You two can catch up at school tomorrow."

Yuna's mouth opens to protest, but she stops herself and I can see the fear in her eyes at my father's glare. "Al-Alright," she forces out slowly. She gives me an uneasy look. "I'll… see you tomorrow then, Rikku. Bye Uncle Cid…"

I nod faintly and watch as she leaves, walking slowly down the hallway. But then Pop slams the door in front of my face, and her figure is erased completely as if it were never there to begin with.

"It's enough that you're going to a public school, Rikku. We don't need you getting into anymore trouble," he tells me quietly before returning to his spot on the couch.

**- - - - - - - -**

"Go back in there and change," Aniki had said when I walked out in a pair of loose jeans and a plain white T-shirt. I told him I couldn't find anything better. He told me to wear a long sweatshirt. I told him it was a warm spring morning. He tattled on Pops.

Aniki's driving me to school while I sit in the front seat, boiling in the heavy grey sweater and tiredly blowing at the roof of my red baseball cap. I have the sudden urge to just leap out of the car and run northward until I reach the Arctic Circle and get adopted by one of those Coca Cola polar bears.

I know my family just means well. But sometimes I wish they didn't. I was independent before. Now I'm treated like a child again, always walking into traps and messes that I can't get out of. Never escaping what happened that November night.

My tank top sticks to my skin underneath my sweatshirt. Pops would kill me if he found out I was wearing it beneath. But there was no way I was going to wear a second sweater.

The car grinds to a halt in front of the school and I see my future classmates scattered around the front and on the field. The school itself is quite large, bigger than my old school definitely, but more old and rundown looking. Cigarette butts popping out of the grass and ground like orange and white daisies. Garbage bins knocked over, spilling its contents out in heavy piles. Previously red brick walls cleaned to a frightening pale peach of the vandalism. I grimace. Aniki clasps his hand around mine. "I'm picking you up at exactly three. You better be here."

I nod obediently. "But what if Yun-"

"You._Better_.Be._Here_," he repeats slowly, narrowing his eyes. "I'm serious about this, Rik."

"I know," I grumble, reaching down for my backpack and opening the car door. I step outside and close it.

"And Rik."

I bend down to stare in the window of the car. "Yeah?"

He's quiet as he glances down at his hands firmly on the steering wheel. His eyes are fixed. His face is emotionless. His limbs are frozen in place. He's reminiscing. "Have a nice day."

**- - - - - - - -**

"Huh, Rikku, ya?" the teacher says, glancing down at the sheet I'd given him. He forces out a smile, running a hand through his bright auburn hair. "Rikku. It's… an Al Bhed name, ya?"

I nod and answer, "Yes."

He shakes his head grimly, and then mumbles something I can't hear as he folds the sheet and places it at the corner of his desk. "Well then, welcome." He taps the edge of my cap. "You'll need to remove that first, ya. There's no hats allowed in the school."

I bite my lip, unsure of how to explain to him. "I - I'm not allowed to take it off," I say quietly.

The class erupts into soft giggles and smirks at my answer. My teacher doesn't find it as amusing and his voice is low and sarcastic. "Unless it's for a religious… Al Bhed... purpose, it _isn't _allowed." He taps his foot on the ground irritably.

After a pause, I remove the cap. My cheeks are hot with humiliation.

For a moment, he's still, his gaze softening and his rigid expression turns gentle. But he recovers quickly. He takes the hat away from me and puts it on his desk over my letter from the office. "You can get it after class," he tells me. He looks around the room. He completely misses the spare desk in the front. "There's an empty spot in the back, ya? That's your seat."

I turn and follow his directions, noticing the commanding silence that accompanies my gaze. The giggles and laughter die immediately, and with every step I take, the room grows to an even more deafening silence. Their voices have hushed, words stolen from their mouths and read in their wandering eyes. They all stare at me as I walk past them, watching in quiet wonder. I catch one particular girl glaring at me as if she is trying to burn me alive with her vicious, red eyes. She intimidates me, her stare more curious and judicious than all the rest. I turn away. I wish I had my cap.

I reach my desk and miserably sink in, burying my head immediately in the pillow of my arms to draw away attention. I wish I were more modest. More ignorant. But experience has made me realize that I turn heads wherever I go. And just like that guy with the eye-patch, people stop and stare when they see me. Except, _my_ "eye-patch" is plastered all over my face and swirled emerald, with a big glowing neon sign screaming '_Look at me! Look at my beautiful _Al Bhed _face! You know I'm sexy. You know I'm gorgeous. I can be your whore for the night, Baby. Don't you just want to _fuck _me?_'

**- - - - - - - -**

"Al Bhed slut," one girl whispers to her friend as they pass by me.

I try to bring Aniki's singing back into my mind to drown out all their whispers. But his voice and presence has long left me, and I can feel his protective grasp slowly weakening. I feel cold and vulnerable, and dependent like always. And I get angry. Angry that I've lost all self-respect, all independence so easily. So quickly. One night.

I wasn't like this when I was little. I was actually stronger. I was unafraid. But things happen, that strip you off your dignity, of your hope and of your pride. And in an instant, your picturesque, fine-ink sketched world, is blemished and melted away in a wave of crimson red. And before you know it, you're leaning against the side of a cold brick wall, tears streaming down your face and you cry with the heavens above and you wonder, underneath the bright streetlamp you lay there and you wonder, how your hands could be capable of being stained with so much blood.

**- - - - - - - -**

The sky looks omniscient when it's dark and streaks of lightning fissure through its black exterior, accompanying the loud growling of thunder that establishes its supremacy over all those beneath it. The world feels so much more real when the soft wind has rushed away, and in its place a frightening, howling cry of murder and anguish sweeps through the city streets with no mercy for the innocent. And the sun has run away to hide behind the vicious clouds, too afraid and too weak to break through and kiss the cheeks of thousands of scared victims caught in the storm of reality. It is too weak and too afraid to repaint the illusion that things are… that things are different here; the illusion that this city is a blissful heaven where tears are only that of joy and love.

But who can tell the difference anyway in the bleak atmosphere of the rain? Where tears of happiness, of sadness, of hurt and of love are disguised as simply water droplets searching for the quickest route to the ground. And the clouds bring about the darker side, conjuring up stories of the past and claiming to be able to predict the future as well. And after a while, you get tired of it. And you let the heavens go on their rampage of fury. Because everyone needs to relax once in a while. Everyone needs some way to relieve of their stress.

It's just… something about this city bugs me. The tall, skyscraper buildings, illuminating themselves proudly in the grand spotlights of the storm. Whilst below in the dirty old streets, and in the darkest corner, of the most desolate alleyways, lies a lonely person, or dog, or cat. Stranded tired, alone, and abandoned. Betrayed, angry, and vengeful. And people wonder why they go insane.

I step into a deep puddle and it splashes all over my jeans, soaking them, turning them navy blue, wet, and heavy. I shake the excess water off my boots and resume walking. I don't turn back, and I don't even turn to the side. My eyes are fixed on the future before me and my legs are frozen in one direction. I don't know where I'm going, but the closest guess would be that I'm searching for the end of the world. A place where I can just jump off and run. Run away from this place. Run away from these people. Another world. Another place. Another person is what I want.

In this world, I'll see _her_. And I'll bring her the taped mug. And I'll tell her that Aniki was the one who broke it, not me. And how I wanted to fix it so badly before the nice-guy-turned-hoodlum stole our glue. But in her frozen state, and in her frozen face she will not reply. She will smile like she always had, as if she were simply asking me, "_So, did you have a nice day?_" And even after I've told her of my horrible first day of school, the broken mug, the blue band-aid stranger, and the eye-patched thief, her never-ending smile will still forever be preserved on her pale lips. I miss her. I miss my mom.

**- - - - - - - -**

Sometimes, in my sleep, the Blue Devil from my childhood comes. Him and his darkly voice. Him and his forceful grip. Him and his deadly, silver blue eyes. Watching me. Fingers, taunting me. Pressing against my skin, his breath on my face. And I shrink into helplessness, down a never-ending spiral, underneath the black, stormy sky. Howling wind and lonely streetlamps. Arms hugely bruised, and legs run down to their last drop of energy. And yet he smiles. Through his wild blue hair and his silver blue eyes he smiles.

"_I just want to get to know you…_"

And then suddenly, it would be warm. It would be wet, and warm. And my fingers sticky and numb and drenched. The bloody blade at my feet. And he would look up from the ground, and stare at me. Gasping and clutching his side, and staring at me. Bewildered. Confused. Surprised. Angry. Staring at me.

And I would run. Down the endless sidewalk I'd run, run and find Aniki. Run and find Pops. I would run until I thought my little legs could run no more, and when I turned back around, I would see him directly behind me, panting heavily and still, staring. But this time, he's not confused. This time, he's not surprised. And he reaches out, and grabs me, viciously pulling me back down his hole. And I'll scream, and I'll shout but no one will hear my cry. I'm just a silly little Al Bhed child after all.

And he takes me into his grasp, and he presses his hand against my mouth. And I try to bite his fingers off, digging my nails and teeth into his skin to no avail. He says he'll kill me if I continue. And that he'll kill Mom if I try to get away again. But he must be retarded. Mom's already dead.

I see a van come into view, and he's heading straight for it. My heart races speedily, and I begin to realize there's no escape. I beg the world for any ounce of mercy. I frantically promise I'll always eat all my vegetables from now on. That I'll follow my bedtime to the second, and that I'll never kick Aniki again.

And then suddenly, I'm on the ground. Rolling in the grass with weeds and mud tangled in my hair as I hear cries of anguish behind me. I look up and see the Blue Devil lying on the ground, being beaten recklessly by a strange little blond boy about my age. He immediately turns and catches my gaze before I'm able to understand what had just happened.

"_Run! Go on, run!_" the boy tells me.

But I can't. I stand up, and I stumble. My legs still hurting from before.

"_Run! Run away!_"

Tears in my eyes, I try with all my might to get up and run like he says. But I can't help but feel guilt. This was my problem, not his.

Suddenly, the Blue Devil picks him up by the silver chain around his neck, choking him. But the necklace snaps, and the boy falls down. The Blue Devil throws the chain away, and reaches out for the boy before he can break free.

The necklace is a few feet away from me, and I can't help but reach out and take it. The boy lets out a scream of agony as the Blue Devil punches his face harshly, cursing loudly. But the boy manages to turn around and look at me. And he gives me an encouraging gaze.

'_Run…_'

And I do. I run. I run and I run… necklace in hand, hand in blood. Still I run and I run to the end of the world – to the end of the world where Mom's waiting for me.

But I always wake up before I see her.

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_Thanks for reading. __**Please Review.  
**__(++Revised, May 5/07)_


	2. Hidden Safe Behind Scars

A/N: I'm trying to include as much of the cast as possible. See if you can identify them.

Super thanks to cupcakegirl for making me do a (much better) rewrite of this chapter.

* * *

**Happenstance  
**Chapter 2 – Hidden Safe Behind Scars

* * *

you told me I'd fly  
though I had no wings  
you told me a lie  
said I had huge wings  
that we'd go up high  
and don't you cling  
cause up in the sky  
y'don't have to cling  
no need to cry  
cause you'll happily sing  
and we won't die  
just happily sing.  
_happily sing  
don't cling  
have wings  
_and we'll fly

* * *

Today, Red-Eyes has a scar on her face. She's trying to hide it with her bangs, but it doesn't work too well. The mark stretches across the edge of her cheek, disappearing faintly before reaching her jaw. It's small and light, but stands out and blemishes her untouchable character. It's strange to see that something can actually injure her. Can actually make her hurt. And yet she sits there, calm and collected, underlining her stoic nature.

She's clearly the oldest in our class, and I suppose she's been held back _at least_ a grade. She's not a sociable one, and no one wants to be sociable with her either. She sticks out like a dead rock in our class of energetic, spirited students – or maybe more so disappears behind them. At least that's one thing we have in common.

The period is over, and the teacher, Mr. Wakka, lets us go for lunch. I get shoved a lot on my way out. Deliberately or accidentally – I don't bother dwelling on it. It doesn't make a difference either way anyway. When people have grown accustomed to doing certain things, viewing certain people in a certain way, it's usually hard to get them to change out of that habit, Mom told me that. Especially when you're the last person on earth they want to have anything to do with.

Another shove shatters my short reminisce, and brings me back to the reality of our crowded high school hallway. "Watch it, _Al Bhed_!" the person yells at me. A teacher down the hall hears her and tells her that's not a nice thing to say.

My locker is all the way at the end of the hall, away from my homeroom classmates who've all been together since the start of school. But since I came in later, there's no room for me with them. That's okay. I don't like them very much anyway.

I get another shove – a rather harsh one that makes me stumble into the wall. "Snobby, Al Bhed, slut," the same girl from three days ago hisses as she passes by me. Her friends giggle with her as they follow her lead. I always dread their giggles; they always curl the air around my neck and make me twitch with immense discomfort. Unexpectedly this time, my eyes begin to sting, like cactus needles are pricking into it. I try not to blink and hope that the air will simply evaporate the water away with her words.

I eventually reach my locker and fumble with the lock as I decide what to do with my lunch hour today. I had thought that it would be less lonely here with Yunie around. But she's the vice-president of the student council, president of the environmental club, and member of dozens of other clubs that she hardly ever has a spare lunch. She tells me to join with her, but I always refuse. It's not my thing anymore.

I put my books in my locker neatly, unconsciously trying to stall for time. I could always go to the library again, but that would mean another day without lunch, and I'm really hungry today.

I sneak a glance around, hoping that maybe Yunie will show up out of the blue and tell me she's canceled all her meetings just to hang out with me. But I know that'll never happen. She'd be letting down too many people – and she can't bear that. Unfortunately, I wind up catching someone else's eyes. A Yevonite male's eyes, and silver white haired.

I turn away immediately and pretend to reorganize my books, shoving each of them furiously through each other. Behind me, I can feel his footsteps approaching, and my heart begins to sink into my stomach. I try to calm myself down. _Oh! This is stupid – so stupid to be acting this way. He probably didn't even notice me. Not everyone notices you, Rikku. Geez, you _are_ a snob._

"Hi."

I jump in surprise and my binders topple over and fall on my head. They bust open and all my papers fly out. I bend down and gather them quickly, waiting expectantly for the Yevonite to laugh and step all over them. But he doesn't. He kneels down and helps me. I look up at him in surprise.

"I'm sorry," he says. He holds up the pile of sheets in his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you," he explains with a guilty smile.

I tentatively take the papers from him and shove them into my binder. I'll sort them out later. "T-Thank you," I reply, unable to look at him directly. My fingers fumble clumsily as I stand up and put everything back in my locker. He's still on the ground. I look down at him curiously.

He then seems to snap out of his trance, turn away bashfully and stand up. "You're new here, aren't you?" he asks.

I nod hesitantly.

"You're in my biology class." He gestures his hand behind his shoulder. "I sit three seats behind you," he says cheerfully, but nervously.

I nod again, but this time trying to hide a giggle from escaping my mouth. He's kind of cute when he's shy. "Really?" I say for the sake of replying.

"Indeed." He glances downwardly. "I can help you catch up with some of the work – if, you know, if, if you want..."

He actually gets a smile out of me. "I would appreciate that, thank you very much," I answer.

He smiles back. "Great…" The hallways are silent now that most of the students have left, and hearing our gentle talk makes this place seem a bit more peaceful and comforting. "So…. Are you busy now?" he asks.

I scrunch my face teasingly. "You mean you want to study _now_?"

He shakes his head immediately. "No! Of course not." He laughs. "It's just…" He rubs the back of his neck. "I just… Heh…eh…"

This time I can't hold it in, and I giggle softly as I close my locker. "Sure," I say casually. I tilt my head to the side. "Rikku."

"Baralai," he responds with a boyish laugh. "Hungry?"

I nod vigorously. He leads us outside of the school and towards a nearby. My stomach growls in agreement at the sight of a small deli.

Even if he isn't the ideal friend I was hoping for, he's still pretty nice, sweet, and funny. At least I don't have to worry about skipping another meal. But my hand rests securely over my pant pocket the whole time I'm with him.

**- - - - - - - -**

"Tidus, you doofus!" Yunie screams excitedly as she snatches the flower away from him. "You're not supposed to smell it _that_ close to your nose!" She then turns to me and sighs as she lazily points to her boyfriend and says, "Rikku, Tidus. Tidus, Rikku."

"Hey," I say, managing a weak smile.

"Hey!" he says back excitedly, before taking the flower from Yunie and giving it to me. "Smell it. It smells like nothing!"

I notice and appreciate the lack of hesitance in his attitude towards me, but I guess it's expected considering his girlfriend is half Al Bhed. I bring the flower up to my nose and sniff it in. I crinkle my brow. "You're right, it doesn't smell like anything!"

He gives Yunie a smug look. "See? Told you."

"Pft." She blows at her bangs and makes her way around the shop counter. "You just don't have a keen nose for flowers."

Tidus shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah, but I can always tell when you're burning something on the stove."

Yunie narrows her eyes before shaking her head at him disappointedly and adding another green plant to the vase filled with fresh orchids. "Oh, Tidus…" she sighs absentmindedly.

"Yes… Yuna?" he says in a similar daydreamy tone.

She gives him a sweet look before pointing to the garbage can in the corner and saying, "Can you take that out?"

He rolls his eyes but follows her command. "Just because I didn't work overtime last week," he grumbles.

Yunie comes out from behind the counter and approaches me with the vase in her hands. "Well, my Mom was pretty upset. You promised her you would stay until closing time, remember?" She then turns to me and gives me the beautiful arrangement of colourful flowers and plants. "Here, you go Rikku!" Then, she frowns slightly. "I hope you're not angry with me... It's just, the environmental club has a charity event coming up, so I've been really busy. I'm really sorry… But next week, I'll be free from Wednesday to Friday! So we'll do something fun!"

I smile, her excitement contagious. I can never be angry with her. "You bet!" A frightening rumble from the back of the shop followed by Tidus's cursing draws away Yunie's attention and she runs to attend to him. "I'll see you tomorrow," I tell her.

She shakes her head. "No, I'll call you tonight! We have so much to talk about!"

I nod and return her smile before opening the door and stepping outside, red baseball cap securely on.

The shop door's wind chimes ring throughout the brisk air and sends little waves of shivers down my spine. It's nearly four-thirty in the afternoon. Pops will never let me go out on my own again if I don't make this curfew. But it has gotten colder within the hour, and my fingers are starting to numb. The heavy vase – though very lovely – is starting to become quite of an annoyance.

I let out a deep sigh, my breath turning white in the air as I bury my nose in the unscented orchids. My bag is unbearably heavy today – so many classes that I need to catch up on having came in the middle of the year. And what sucks is that I'm not exactly a _genius_ in anything.

I mean, I guess I'm _alright_. I'm occasionally on the honours list, and get a couple of perfect test scores once in a while but… I miss elementary. When school never really counted for much but stickers and pleasing Mom and Pops and getting ice cream. Now, it counts for university. It counts for life. It counts for my future and the difference in whether I'm sitting in an office building or an abandoned building. And Al Bhed are only useful for fixing cars anyway.

Pops doesn't want me working as a mechanic… anymore; rap music videos and popular magazines don't exactly give off a pleasant perception of female mechanics. Although he's in construction himself, he's planning to make some extra money fixing cars on the weekends for our neighbours. That's what he used to do a long time ago. He's still good at it – really good. All our Al Bhed friends look up to him, and its nice to have at least your father looked up to.

Aniki's another case.

I see my building come into view, and quicken my pace. The vase's weight has increased tenfold in the past couple of minutes, I swear, and it feels as if it'll slip out of my hands any moment now. With a couple of small grunts, I focus my eyes on my grip against the slippery glass container, as if intensely glaring at it would fuse my fingers to it. I look up to see how much further away I am from the entrance of the building when a huge body suddenly appears in front of me.

The vase shatters on the ground.

The man looks at me through his circular glasses, and then at the drowning flowers sprinkled in fragments of glass on the pavement. He's quiet, gloved hands still at his sides and legs unmoving, his mouth drawn into a thin frown. Waiting.

I avoid his stare immediately, stepping back and crossing my arms across my chest to hug my shoulders. There's a lump in my throat, a shiver down my spine, and I suddenly feel the air's too thick to breathe.

I want to run. But I want my orchids. And I wish he'd just say _agoddamnthing_ so I'll know if –

"Aren't you going to pick that up?"

I run. I turn on my heels and race toward the building entrance, only glancing back for the briefest moment to see his unusually long brown hair whip in circles around my broken vase.

**- - - - - - - -**

Aniki decides he's a world class chef and cracks an egg into the frying pan only to have its contents spill off the side and burn into a crisp on the stove a few minutes later. The fire alarm goes funky for the next little while and he tells me to open the balcony door to let the smoke drift out. We end up eating butter and raisin bread instead with warm tea.

"What do you want to watch?" he asks me as we plop on the couch with our snacks.

I skim my eyes over the TV guide and shrug. "Whatever. Doesn't matter."

He flips through a couple of channels before decidedly stopping at the news channel. There's a story about the discovery of a billion-million something year old skull found in Bikanel and another about the health benefits of tomatoes. When they switch to a local news story about a recent rape, Aniki turns off the TV and offers to help me with my homework.

We're in the middle of deriving the derivative of the logarithmic function (which Aniki constantly _insists_ on copying the answers out from the back) when Pops comes home with a box of spicy wings and a large pepperoni pizza, and of course, a case of _Coca Cola_. He talks about some bastard Yevonite that nearly ran over him in the morning and how the city's corrupted with so many bastard Yevonites. I remind him that Yunie's only half Al Bhed and he tells me she's exceptional.

He then asks if I got home on time, and Aniki nods and tells him how I had "accidentally stepped into a puddle" and that's why my jeans are wet (and unscented) and hanging to dry over a chair. Pops reminds me I have to be careful more often because we're a little tight on money now. Hypocritically, he tears open the case of cola and drowns down a little more than he really needs.

**- - - - - - - -**

It's two in the morning, but I still can't sleep. Outside I can hear the cars chugging down the streets, a group of friends laughing and yelling about, their voices echoing against the walls of the clear night sky as the shattering of beer bottles illuminates the sound of Yunie's wind chimes.

Yunie's forgotten to call me. And that's alright because I know she didn't do it on purpose. We'll talk tomorrow. Or next week. Or y'know, soon. And I'll tell her about my flowers and that big, strange man with the long ponytail, and for sure we'll talk a lot then.

But for now I need sleep. I haven't had more than six hours of sleep since we moved here, and my brain kinda goes _thump-de-thump_ in the middle of Mr. Issaru's world religions class. Ms. Lulu said something about it the other day in Biology class; your brain not enough oxygen or something. And Mr. Wakka thinks oxygen isn't _that _necessary for brain function because he also coaches the swim team.

I _know_ I like oxygen, thank you very much. But tonight I'd prefer it cold. The air in my room is humid, and sticky, and sweaty and gooey and making me feel like I'm sitting in Bikanel in a snowsuit.

It the first night this year I have to wear shorts to bed. I didn't expect April nights to be so warm, so I hadn't gone shopping for new clothes lately. I'm wearing an old pair, which hardly covers my butt and is well below my waist. But it doesn't matter, because it's just me and my little room. And it's a comforting feeling – to know that you're not being watched.

A faint breeze rustles my curtains as a howl of laughter erupts from outside, down below the building. I listen to their murmurs for a while, the sounds soothing my mind a little. A little.

My throat feels too dry now, and I blame the humid air for my dehydration. Stepping out of bed, my bare foot hits the cold hardwood floor and I let out a sigh of relief as the cooling sensation surges throughout my body. The apartment's quiet, except for the occasional snore from Aniki or Pops, so I tip-toe very quietly toward the kitchen. It's dark, and I almost trip over a couple of things before finally opening the cupboard and searching for a cup.

I pull out my large orange mug – identical to Mom's green one but orange; we got it during a 2 for 1 sale – and gently pour in the boiled water from our kettle. The water gushes out all lumpy and loud in the silent apartment.

And then I hear footsteps.

I flinch a bit, spilling some of the water over my toes. The footsteps are clearly coming from the building's hallway outside, but who would be out this late? I glance at the clock on the wall, the moonlight revealing that it's yes, two in the morning still. Deciding that it's none of my business, I carefully take my mug and begin to walk back to my room. It's when I pass the door that I hear a familiar voice.

"_I'm fine_," he says. "_… No, I'm sleeping… Yeah, at home …"_

I don't move for a few seconds, too surprised. The voice sounds like it belongs to Eye-Patch, the guy who stole my money and my glue the other day. But what's he doing out in the hall? He lives here?

"… _Didn't see him… Okay, I saw him… No, he didn't… He didn't_."

It's only natural that I find his strange conversation more interesting than my hot, humid room. As long has he doesn't know I'm listening, it's alright.

"… _Okay, just a little… A little, wasn't even – what? Hah… Whatever, just a small scratch._"

I'm leaning against the door now, my head pressed against it, trying to hear a second voice to understand their conversation. But I only hear his voice, so I guess he's on his cell phone.

"… _Oh quit worryin'. I'm fine… Go to sleep… Seriously, stop askin, I'm fine… FinefinefineFINE._"

There's a little slit in the metal flap of the door where the mail comes in, and I squint to try and see if I can see him through it. I gently poke my finger against it, opening it a little wider before I can recognize his crouched frame. His back is toward me, and his hand pressing a cell phone to his ear.

He's wearing a grayish hooded sweater, with a hint of lavender, black jeans faded to a ghostly white and shoes scuffed up and old. But his hair is cleanly spiked, shining underneath the hallway lights as if his hair was stolen from a golden statue. I see a glimpse of his eye-patch strap behind his head, and there's a little silver earring that I hadn't noticed before.

And then I see a thin red line.

Trailing from under his eye-patch strap and down the far end of his cheek. It looks painful. He's gripping onto his phone as if it was a stress ball, and his back's hunched over in semi-defeat. I have half the mind to go out and offer him a bandage or something to wash off the blood… But then Aniki, and Pops, and Blue Devil. My short shorts don't help. So I decidedly remain silent and quiet, watching him from safely behind my door until he disappears into his own apartment.

"_I'm fine… Don't worry… Hah, g'night, Dr.P._"

* * *

_Thanks for reading. __**Please Review.**_  
_(++Revised May 5/07)_


	3. A Loner’s Independence

A/N: For anyone who's still interested, I'm very, very sorry for the long delay! I will update my profile regularly of my progress on this fic.

**

* * *

**

**Happenstance  
**Chapter 3 – _A Loner's Independence_

* * *

you said run fast  
and don't look back  
make it last  
you can't look back  
the field is vast  
but don't you slack  
you will surpass  
just don't slack  
meet the mass  
and now attack  
remember the past  
and now attack  
_your attack  
__don't you slack  
__get him back  
_when you run fast

* * *

Mr. Wakka calls for the class to settle down, glancing at the clock on the wall and then at the attendance sheet. He gestures toward me, standing beside him at the front of the room. My face is as bright as his hair, the humiliation already getting to me as I pray for someone – _anyone_, I don't care anymore – to jump up and offer before he speaks. But it doesn't happen. Of course it doesn't.

He clears his voice. "Rikku doesn't have a partner."

I don't dare look at _any_ of them. I can already feel their amused glares on me, laughing, snickering, mumbling, '_Who'd want to be with that snobby Al Bhed? What a loser…'_ That's how it's been in every one of my classes this week. I don't try and talk to anyone, so no one talks to me. They say I'm stuck-up. They say I'm dumb. They don't want to be seen with me.

Mr. Wakka narrows his eyes irritably, glancing at the attendance sheet once again. "There's an even number in this class. Whoever doesn't have a partner, speak up now, ya?"

I hope it's not the weird kid in the front. The one with the funny medical mask apparatus around his head, talking to himself in strange mumbles as he picks apart everything he can get his hands on. I don't want it to be the auburn haired girl either. She's always spreading rumors and loves to blabber about anything about anyone that would appeal to the student body; she'd make a good newscaster though.

"Paine, who's your partner?" the teacher suddenly asks, and I realize he's talking to Red-Eyes.

She doesn't look at him, her eyes fixated on an empty spot on the ground. She doesn't reply.

"Alright, you two. Together."

He nods in her direction, and I tentatively walk her way. The class eventually breaks out into chatter and discussion of the news article assignment while I sit in silence with Red-Eyes. We're the only pair not conversing. I don't make any offer to talk, and she gives all indication that she doesn't want me to.

When class ends, the teacher tells us we'll have to come to detention after school for not finishing the work.

**- - - - - - - -**

Baralai breaks off a piece of his sandwich and holds it out to me. "Do you want to try?" he asks with an assuring smile.

I twist my mouth and turn away with a soft laugh. "It smells funny," I tell him.

He shakes his head, dropping it into his mouth easily and chewing with excessive '_Mmm_-ing' in an attempt to make me jealous.

I laugh a bit once more and then lean back against the metal bleachers, the cool surface providing relief from the unusually hot April sun. A gentle breeze blows our way and tickles my face as I stare out at the field of students walking, playing soccer, or sitting in the blissful shade.

"Aren't you hot in that sweater?" he asks in between bites.

I shake my head. "I'm fine."

He rolls his eyes and chuckles softly, pointing to my forehead. "And I suppose you've just went swimming then?"

I immediately wipe the sweat off with the sleeve of my sweater, embarrassed and blushing hard. "Maybe I'm a little warm," I say.

He shrugs his shoulders. "Then why don't you just take it off?"

I impulsively inch away. "I'm fine."

He raises his eyebrow. "Right," he replies in a sarcastic tone. He pauses before saying, "You know, I've actually never seen you in anything but a sweater." He laughs. "What will you do when it gets closer to summer time?"

"I have a light jacket."

He shakes his head, taking the last bite of his sandwich. "You don't like wearing T-shirts?"

I glance down. "No."

"How come?"

"I just don't," I respond, a bit too forcefully. And instantly I regret it. I look back up at him with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay. It was none of my business anyway." He turns his attention to the basketball court down the hill. "You want to go and watch them play? The team has a game this Friday, and I bet you they'll win again."

I nod with a smile. "Sure, why not?"

He brushes the crumbs off his lap. "Okay then." He turns to me with a challenging smile. "I'll race you."

And immediately he jumps of the bleachers and sprints across the patchy green grass. With an uncontrollable laugh, I charge after him, knowing that he's no match for me. And in no time, I've surpassed him, and my surroundings seemingly so blurred and distorted that it's as if they've been lost to the wind in my hair.

I reach the court soon enough, and turn around excitedly to see how well I've beaten him by. But he's no where in sight. Feeling quite satisfied, I jog up the hill once more looking for him. Only to soon see him as the center of attention of a circle of girls.

He catches my gaze, and smiles, gesturing me to come over. I shake my head, 'no', but he nods his head instead. The girls turn and follow his stare, and their eyes eventually fall on me.

"Come here, Rikku," he calls out, and then turns to one of the girls. "Did you see how fast she ran? I've never seen anything like it."

I look away shyly, rubbing the back of my neck.

The girls don't seem to care. "But are _you_ going to join track this year?" they ask him.

He shrugs his shoulders. "Perhaps." Once again he looks at me. "Rikku, do you want to join? The tryouts are after school today."

I shake my head. "I have detention."

He breaks through the crowd and walks toward me, completely oblivious to the curious looks the girls give him for approaching me. "That's okay. Come after. It usually doesn't start till then anyway." He smiles. "I'll go if you go, alright?"

I can't help returning his smile. "I don't know… I'm not _that_ fast…"

"Of course you are! Besides, I'm just asking you to try." He attempts a dashing smile. "For me?"

I giggle softly. "Erm… I guess… I guess I can try. I'll have to tell my Pops first…"

He pats me slightly on the shoulder. "See? This'll be fun, just you wait."

**- - - - - - - -**

The teacher leaves for a moment, and Paine leans against her chair, arms crossed and deadly red eyes glaring out the window. I begin to get worried that we may not finish again, and I don't plan on being in detention for another afternoon.

Standing up from my seat, I take the newspaper article and start to skim it and jot down the answers on the question sheet. I can feel her staring at me out of the corner of my eye, and I think she's about to thank me for independently taking up the task when she suddenly says, "Your writing is like chicken scratch. Let me do it."

I don't know whether to feel angry and insulted, or surprised that she even spoke to me. But I tentatively pass her the sheet, and watch as she erases my answers and rewrites them again. Then, she looks at me. "Who's side is the author on?" she asks.

I realize that she's talking about the work and skim it frantically. "Uh – I'm not sure. Let me read it again." And I begin to scan the paper. I hear her sighing in the background and can feel her eyes intently on me. My palms begin to get sweaty, smudging the words on the paper, wondering if she would stab me with that pencil if I say the wrong answer.

"Well?"

"I – I think he's on the government's side," I reply, and she writes it down.

"What are his three main arguments?" she reads out in a monotone voice from the question sheet.

"Uh – I'm not sure. Let me read it again."

The rest of our detention continues in a similar fashion. And by the time the teacher returns and collects our sheet, and dismisses us out the door, I can still hear her aggravated sigh, as if I deserve to hear it for the rest of my life.

**- - - - - - - -**

The school gym is big. Big and scary. Big and scary and bright. And my head spins dizzily just looking at it. In the center, a ring of girls – most of them I recognize from the group that was around Baralai earlier – are gathered together in their little cliques, laughing and smiling and stretching their finely toned muscles much to the appreciation of many observing males. I can't help noticing how high up their thighs and down below their hips their shorts are, remembering the school dress code I'd been strictly told of by the office secretary. I bite my lip nervously, thankful that I didn't take gym this year.

"Hey, aren't you going to go change?" Baralai asks from behind.

I shake my head, unsure of how to explain to him that I've completely changed my mind and am not running half-naked down the field with all those people watching.

"You don't have gym clothes?"

I shake my head, hiding my relief. "No! Oh, _darn_ it." I press my hand to my chest with a disappointed sigh. "I forgot; I don't have gym this year."

He frowns with me, but only his is sincere. "Not even a change of clothes? Shorts and T-shir – Oh wait, _you don't like T-shirts_." He smiles teasingly a bit upon saying so.

I narrow my eyes. "Would you stop with that already?"

He chuckles slightly, apologizing as he drops his bag on the ground and bends down to unzip it. He takes out a pair of shorts and a large T-shirt, holding it out to me. "Here, you can wear mine," he says. "It'll be pretty big on you… so think of it as a long sleeve T-shirt."

I blink. "But – But aren't you gonna try out too?"

He glances at the ring of girls, giving a friendly smile as he catches a few of their eyes. Then he turns to me, a bigger grin on his face. "No."

I laugh a bit. "How come?"

"I… just don't have the time. There's just no way I can wake up early for practices, anyway."

I glance down at the neatly folded pile of clothes in his hand, still outstretched. He waves it tauntingly.

"Take it."

I reach out for it, and then pull back. "I don't think I'll try out either."

He raises his eyebrow. "Why not?"

I can't answer him.

"It'd be a real waste if you didn't. If you always run like you ran today, trust me, you'll bring this school back a medal, a trophy, a something." He lightly throws the bundle into my arms. "Try." And he gives a sarcastic pout.

I laugh. "I don't think-"

"They're clean. I just washed them yesterday."

My eyes bulge wide and I shake my head vigorously, "No, no it's not that! It's just, I… My pops doesn't like me doing… And my brother really thinks that I shouldn't be… You know, it's not like I actually _like_-"

He stands up, placing both hands on my shoulders firmly, sighing. "Just try, Rikku. Don't be so shy. Just try."

"But I-"

"I'll be here with you, okay? Better?" he says, as if that was all I needed to hear.

I turn away. "But…"

"But?"

"I…"

"You?"

I glance at the girls staring at us, and then glance at the guys staring at them. And then at Baralai. And suddenly I feel warm. "I guess… Maybe… Just try…"

He smiles, giving me a slight shove. "The girl's change room is down that way."

I nod slowly, picking up my bag and heading toward the door, my shoulder warm where he had touched me. His bundle of clothes shakes in my worried hands, and I cannot help but wonder what Pops and Aniki would say if they saw me now. '_You get yer' ass back home_ _Rikku!_' and '_I'll be damned if_ _you put that boy's pants on!_'

I pause, turning around briefly to look at Baralai, who's staring straight at me, giving me an encouraging smile. I grip the fabric of his shirt, its fresh laundry scent reminding me of him and his comforting words. I turn around, about to enter the door when a familiar girl steps out in the same short-shorts gym attire with her friend. They both look at me, snicker, then past by. I can hear them behind me.

"…She's the one always around Baralai, isn't she?"

"Yeah, snobby, slutty Al Bhed, kid." Her giggle curls the hair on my back. "I wouldn't worry about her, Love."

I pause before dropping the bundle of clothes on a nearby bench and running out of the gym.

**- - - - - - - -**

Ms. LuLu says there are powerful hormones that are released when you cry, those responsible for making you depressed or overjoyed. Flowing away with your tears, all the negativity inside you. And so they say, the more you cry, the better you'll feel. If that's the case, I must be frickin' ecstatic.

The rock I've been kicking finally winds up trotting down the sewer, clanking loudly despite its small size and smooth surface. I forget about it quickly and simply find another pebble to push around, imagining it were that mean blond girl. But my imagination doesn't hold for long, and I begin to feel guilty – and quite silly – after a while, so I stop.

It's quiet out here, most of the students take the bus home. Aside from the redhead by the wall, I'm standing all alone in the parking lot. And let's just keep it that way. But of course, that doesn't happen, and before I know it, I see a stark of blinding silver hair through the glass doors, bouncing up and down in the hallway, getting bigger and bigger and _oh crap, he's found me_!

I snatch my backpack off the ground and quickly look around for a place to hide, spotting a large tree a few meters away. My lean frame actually works to my benefit this time, allowing me to safely hide behind the trunk. I dare not move.

I hear the large door close, and hear his feet scraping against the gravel roughly. There's a pause, and then a sigh. And then the door opens again, and closes. I peek out slowly. He's gone.

Aniki arrives a while later, still angry that I had decided to take up an after school sport. But I tell him I didn't make the cut, and he pats me on the back with an apologetic look that I can see right through.

**- - - - - - - -**

I tie my hair into another vicious knot, waking myself up from the daze and forcing myself to concentrate on the book in front of me. The words are blurry in my vision, smeared across the page, the brightly coloured pictures faded into dusty reds and blues. And even with the shock of pain from my hair tie, my brain begins to doze off again. I glance at my alarm clock behind me. Two in the morning. Two tests tomorrow. Too damn tired. But must study. Must study. Mom said must study.

_Alright, alright._ I grab my pencil and begin to jot down the given information in the question. That's always the first thing you do. Now, okay… so if the block is on an inclined plane, then the acceleration due to gravity would be the… would be the sine… or the cosine… if I figure out the angle… but then there's the coefficient of friction reducing its velocity and… _Gawd_, is the block even _moving_?

I grip my head in frustration, throwing down the pencil before dropping my head on my desk with a thud. The result isn't so great. But hopefully I've knocked something in my brain to my benefit.

I end up staring at the wood of my desk. Lines of the tree trunk run from either end. And they look so pretty. Some of them swirling together to create long wobbly rectangular shapes… like… oh no. No, no no! Onion cells! Plant cells! Biology lab tomorrow! Damn it.

My fingers curl into a fist, and I let out a quiet whimper, angry at myself. Angry at myself for being so stupid. Furious with myself for not being able to concentrate and focus when this is clearly _not_ the time to stare at wood.

I glance at my textbook again.

What's the point, seriously? I already know I'm not a genius or anything, so it's not like I'll ever become anything exceptionally great. My best bet is to get a steady job now and keep it for the rest of my life. But I know Aniki regrets his decision.

But my hand won't write and my head won't think. And I'm so angry at myself because I know I want to do it, but I just won't. There's no motivation, no encouragement and does anyone really care…?

I somehow "forget" about my homework, sliding the papers and books into my bag and take a shower instead.

**- - - - - - - -**

The moonlight spills on my pillow from a little crack in my curtains, and I trace my fingers over it, making friendly shadows in the pale blue light. It takes a while for me to realize that I'm tracing a rather familiar shape onto the surface, and I reach over to the cabinet of my nightstand. My hands dig through all of the precious possessions that I keep in there, until I feel the comforting touch of cool metal. I fish out the blond boy's necklace from so long ago and lay it on my pillow to bathe in the moonlight.

It shines instantly, glistening with a friendly light, radiating comfort and love. And it gives me a feeling of security. Of safety and assurance. And soon, I'm fast asleep.

* * *

_Thanks for reading._ _**Please Review.**_


	4. Talking With Strangers

**Happenstance  
**Chapter 4 – _Talking with Strangers_

* * *

you'll say it's a crush  
there's nothing much  
his words are mush  
it's nothing much  
makes you blush  
a little touch  
leaves you flushed  
from just a touch  
he makes you rush  
so you will clutch  
and make you hush  
cause you've clutched  
_in his clutch  
by his touch  
fallen too much  
_heart'll be crushed.

* * *

I wake up from the sound of shouting.

My room is dark and humid, curtains dancing in the evening wind, flapping against each other and drowning out the noises that had awoken me. I close my eyes again and turn on my side, burying my face in my pillow as I try to chase after my dream again, its essence starting to drift away. I'd been having a good dream – the one in which I won first place at our old community center's swimming tournament. Mom was in the stands at that time, her hands holding a watermelon slushie that she'd bought for me to enjoy after the race, whether or not I won. Aniki was out by the vending machines, trying to free his stuck dollar coin to get Pops his cola. And Pops was sitting beside mom, arms folded across his chest as he watched me grab onto the ledge of the pool. I'd won. And he was proud of me. She was proud of me. Aniki was proud of me. I made them proud, and that made me proud of myself. For a moment at least…

…Maybe I woke up because of the Blue Devil, instead.

Blue Devils aren't supposed at children's swimming tournaments. Blue Devils aren't supposed to be sitting in the front row, eyeing you constantly and there's that devious glare in his eyes that you've seen before. _You've seen before_. Blue Devils aren't supposed to be around, and behind, and staring down at you and asking you questions. Questions you don't understand, don't care to answer, and _why's he all up in my face_? Blue Devils aren't something you want to dream about. Maybe it was better that I woke up.

I turn on my other side, clutching the blanket close as I slide my bare legs against one another. My T-shirt is sticking to my skin. I think about tossing the sheets into the corner of the bed, because it's a ridiculously hot evening, and I really gotta stop being so… childish. With a heavy sigh, I push my legs out from underneath the blanket, a cool sensation washing me over for a few short seconds before my legs begin to feel sticky and tingly again.

I frown, pulling myself up into a sitting position and stare at my blank, black wall as I set my feet on the floor. The curtains have stopped dancing, and the breeze has left my window to greet someone else's. Someone who probably already has air-conditioning in their apartment. With a small groan, I reach back to grab my pillow. I contemplate for a moment before decidedly leaving my blanket behind and then make my way into the living room. I fiddle around in the dark to turn on the small fan, and then make my way to the couch before sinking in. I sigh in relief as I close my eyes and a rush of wind lifts the edges of my hair. As if I was standing by a cliff, overlooking the ocean.

The atmosphere is quiet, with the faint sound of cars and trucks on the streets and an occasional airplane flying overhead. They're gentle urban noises that lull me to a lazy sleep. That make me momentarily forget that tomorrow will be scorching hot. And that tomorrow I may have to bring out that old t-shirt in my dresser to wear to school. Maybe. And maybe Aniki and Pops won't lecture me.

I suddenly jump when I hear heavy footsteps down the hall, outside our apartment. Instinctively, Eye-Patch's face comes to mind, and I picture him sluggishly dragging himself to his door, talking on the phone and clutching the wounded side of his face. Eye narrowed as he tries not to let his painful groans betray his words of assurance. It's so like him.

I listen carefully for his voice, but hear none. He must be alone – if it _is_ him. And while the story should just end there and my curiosity should be satisfied, I'm not. It's one in the morning. Why does he often come home so late? The fact that it's none of my business makes me partially suppress the urge to peak through the mail flap again and check if it's really him. But only partially. And sure enough, after a few seconds, I slide off the couch and tip toe toward the door. Pressing my palms lightly against the wood, I look through the peephole just in time to see his door close.

And yet his keys are still in the lock.

I gulp as I realize the responsibility that has sudden fallen on my shoulders. Either I knock on his door and tell him he's forgotten his keys, or I ignore it and leave his home at a high risk for burglars. I groan, slapping my hand against my forehead as I contemplate what to do. He may have a little sister or an elderly grandparent in his home, and in that case, it's my moral obligation to tell him. Then again, it's not really any of my business. And I don't even _know_ him, and I was supposed to be fast asleep on my couch _anyway._

I decide I'll step out, grab the keys and shove them through the mail flap and he'll find it on the ground of his apartment the next morning. Quick and easy. And I don't have to meet him face to face. There shouldn't be anything wrong with that. And it should be perfectly safe; it's just a few footsteps out the door, really. I worriedly glance back at Aniki's and Pop's bedroom doors. I should be fine. I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, knowing I had let even someone like Eye-Patch leave his keys in the lock.

I make my way to the closet to grab a jacket, my hand shaky as I pull it off the rack. I don't usually do this sort of thing. This sort of middle of the night savior for a person I don't know or like and was pathetic enough to steal a tube of glue from me. But even so, I know if I were him, I'd appreciate it if I had someone who looked after me when I did something as stupid as this. Someone to be concerned if I came home in the middle of the night with scars on my face.

Sliding my arms through the sleeves, I slip on a pair of flip-flops and quietly open my door. _Quick and easy, quick and easy_, I repeat in my head. Just reach out and grab the keys and shove them through the flap.

I step into the hallway, and realize it's a lot cooler than inside my apartment. The lights are hazy, and the hallway is empty from left to right. Everyone's asleep and I feel a little better even though I can feel my pulse quickening because I just don't do this sort of thing. Not recently, at least. I take a step forward and silently wiggle the keys out, cursing under my breath when it jiggles too loudly. But it finally comes free, and I let out a small sigh of relief before I hear the door click. And it opens.

And I glance up, and he's glancing down.

The keys fall out of my hands and I impulsively take a rapid step back, stumbling slightly as my eyes grow wide in fear. My heart pounding in my ears and my hands unable to move as he glares at me. Glares at me as if I was the one trying to break in.

"What are you doing?"

My palms press against the wall, and I lean against it with numb limbs, my mouth unable to articulate any meaningful sounds. I should've never left the apartment, honestly, _why_ did I do that? It's none of my business what happens to him or his family. None of my business to butt in… and what idiot leaves her apartment in the middle of the night to help some bozo she doesn't even _know_ –

He steps out into the light of the hall, his face finally revealed from under the shadows of his dark apartment, and I notice there are no scars or wounds like I had previously predicted. Just a simple face, really. Al Bhed. Tanned and quite handsome. Blonde. I quickly glance away when I realize I've been staring for a little too long. He bends down to grab his keys off the floor. I feel him pause momentarily to look at me, probably deciding whether or not to question me any further when suddenly, down the hall, the elevator doors open.

Instantly, he reaches out and snatches my wrist, grabbing me firmly and pulling me inside with unrelenting force. His hand tightly presses against my mouth to keep me from screaming, and he pushes me against the door, closing it. Reaches down, and locks it. And holds me still.

I'm trembling, tears automatically sliding silently down my cheeks because he won't let me make a peep of a noise as he holds me securely in place. Holds me so tightly that my arms hurt and my head hurts and I can't budge, can't move. Holding me against my will and this is not right! And _let me go, let me go, please! Let me go! _

He shushes me, pressing his body slightly against mine as he bends over to look through the peephole. "Just be quiet," he whispers, not withdrawing his hands. But his voice is gentle. And assuring, like the time I spied on him talking on the phone. And after a few minutes of silence between the two of us, my heartbeat starts to slow down, my hysteria dying with it. And my wrist just hurts.

I can't see a thing in his dark apartment, except for a weakly lit room down the hall. It reminds me of my apartment, except his is much hotter. Or maybe it's just because I've still got the jacket on, and he's too close for comfort.

And then, slowly, I feel his grip lessening, and he releases me with a small sigh of relief. But his body is still hovering over mine, and he doesn't move from his position. "Cunno (Sorry)," he says, turning away from the peephole.

I don't respond, reaching up to wipe my face with the sleeve of the jacket instead, glad that he can't see my wet face in the dark. I flinch when I feel his fingers touch my cheek.

"Are you alright? Sorry, I didn't mean to… It's just, I thought it was… someone." His low voice sends a slight shiver down my back, making my limbs twitch suddenly. As if just snapped out of their previously numb state. "Are you alright?" he asks again.

I nod, mumbling in a bare whisper, "Yes" when I realize he can't possibly see my nod in the dark. I feel his body backing away, and his footsteps walk quietly throughout his living room before he turns on a small lamp in the corner. The place lights up dimly. I immediately hug my torso, compelled to stand still as my mind screams for me to grab onto the doorknob and rush back to our apartment and hide in Pop's bed. But Eye-Patch is looking at me with a tired sort of expression, and I suddenly feel a bit comforted.

He takes a box of tissues from the table, walking over to me and holding it out. I take it clumsily and wipe my face dry. He helps me. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, holding my wrist with such tenderness that I never would have suspected he'd be capable of. And I feel more encouraged to reply honestly.

"A little."

He rubs his thumb against the back of my hand before tugging me gently toward the kitchen. "I'll get you some ice… I'm sorry again."

I hesitate before replying, "It's okay." Somehow, it's as if I deserved it. For butting into his business when I should've just left the damn keys in his lock and not suddenly decide it was time to be spontaneous and heroic. I pull my arm back to my side as discretely as possible to not offend him. "Actually, I think I'll just… go back home." I shrug sheepishly. "I have ice too."

He raises his eyebrow at me, opening his freezer and dropping a few ice cubes into a plastic bag. "Don't worry about it," he says with a light chuckle. "It's the least I can do after scaring you like that."

Something inside of me tightens, and I have the sudden urge to protest his quick assumption that I was scared. As if I have something to prove to him. Even though it was true. I take the bag of ice from him with a quiet thanks.

"What were you doing with my keys anyway?" he asks, leaning against the fridge as he watches me lay the bag across my wrist.

I frown slightly. I want to go home. I don't want to talk to him. Especially in his apartment, and especially alone. But then a part of me says it's alright. Says he seems like a trustworthy guy – but that's what they all seem like at first anyway. I must have a soft spot for blonde boys. "I saw your keys left in the lock. I was gonna slip it through your door." I glance up, realizing my own tone doesn't sound too convincing. "Honest."

He hesitates before smiling faintly. "Alright… I guess I should be thanking you then." He holds out his hand. "Gippal."

It's a moment before I realize he's just told me his name, and then another second to realize that he's waiting for me to tell him mine. Clumsily, and without a second thought, I blurt out immediately, "Reiko."

I don't know why I did that. Especially after my whole epiphany of deciding he's a trustworthy guy. Maybe my instincts are trying to tell me otherwise.

"Reiko," he says, testing it on his lips. He smiles. "That's my cousin's name too."

I force out an awkward smile before glancing down and turning around. "I should get back home."

I feel his footsteps behind me. "Let me walk you."

"It's fine."

He scoffs slightly. "Girls like you shouldn't be walking the halls at night."

I raise my eyebrow, that tightening feeling awakening again in my chest, and I can't help it this time. "Girls like… me?" I say, even though I know exactly what he means. And at the same time, kind of daring him to make it mean something else. To not assume that I'm the weak, sissy type.

"Yeah," he says in a somewhat smug tone, pressing one hand flat against the wall beside me and leaning down casually. "Girls like you."

And just like that, I'm completely guilt-free of having told him a false name. Narrowing my gaze, I clutch my hand around the doorknob and turn it open. "Thank you, but I'll be fine," I say, contemplating before adding, "I live right across from you." He would've find out sooner or later, anyway.

"Oh." He pulls back and lets me step out into the hall. He leans against the frame of his door as he watches me step back into my apartment. His face is busy with intense thought.

I quickly close the door behind me, sinking down to the ground with a sigh, feeling all weird and awkward. It's a moment before I'm back on my feet again, glancing out the peephole to check if he's gone back inside. He has.

I take off the jacket and hang it back in the closet. The ice has almost completely melted in this hot temperature and I pour out the remaining liquid into the sink before tossing out the plastic bag.

The fan is still on where I left it, and I make my way back to the couch, wrapping my fingers around my swollen wrist as I think about my encounter with him. Such a strange encounter it was. And what a stupid person I was for taking such a risk. My mind is fully awake and my heart is just beginning to return to its normal pace. Why I didn't run out the moment he released me, I don't know. It's as if I haven't learned from my past mistakes. It's as if I were walking into the same trap all over again. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I press my palm against my chest and close my eyes, my body tightening so much now that I feel it's going to curl inward and swallow itself. Never again will I do something like that. _Girls like me_ should know better than that.

* * *

_Thanks for reading. __**Please Review.**_


	5. Story of Crimson

**Happenstance  
**Chapter 5 – Story of Crimson

* * *

you were my eyes  
trustworthy friend  
stood by my side  
like a true friend  
what you provided  
a way to mend  
my broken pride  
easy to mend  
then it subsided  
that was the end  
a bullet inside  
that was our end  
_in the end  
__can't mend  
__a traitorous friend  
_you were an eye

* * *

There's an orchid in her hair.

Whether you personally know her or not, Paine doesn't come off as the type of girl to wear flowers in her hair. Especially an orchid that looks like it was specifically (Yuna)-picked for someone special. Especially an orchid that is small, white, and I'm willing to bet, _unscented_. It looks nice on her, but it would've looked nicer in my unbroken vase in my living room.

I'm not sure if it's fair that I'm suspicious, but I cannot help the feeling. It's not every day you run into a man with enough self-confidence in his masculinity that he walks around with a pony tail that falls past his behind. A man who doesn't bother to help you pick up your fallen orchids – doesn't even seem to care that they have scattered around his feet, and the water which soaks his shoes. A man who seems more mature and ridged than most… and so…

Actually… maybe I'm wrong, and it's _not_ fair that I'm suspicious. Maybe he doesn't have _anything_ to do with the flower in Paine's hair after all.

Still…

The feeling of suddenly being watched comes to my conscious, and I turn around from my place at my locker to meet Baralai's gaze. I swallow hard.

He doesn't say anything initially; he simply stares at me with a sort of annoyed, and yet worried expression on his face. Offended, maybe. And who's to blame him especially since I just ran out of the gym yesterday without giving him an explanation. And I know that he deserves one, but I'm not planning on giving it to him. Even if he is one of the few people who have been nice to me since my transfer here… He's a male Yevonite, after all. He just… He wouldn't understand.

"Hi," I say weakly, turning down my gaze as I aimlessly stuff my binder in my locker.

"Why'd you leave so suddenly yesterday?" he asks, his body still as a rock, as if he's trying to hold in his annoyance.

I hesitate momentarily, closing the door of my locker and fiddling mindlessly with the lock as I think of an appropriate response. "I changed my mind," I tell him quietly.

"How come?"

"I didn't feel well."

"Really…" he says in a low, almost sarcastic tone. I can tell he doesn't believe me, but he has no way of proving me wrong. And he's not the type to grab me by the wrist and force answers out of me. He's much too civil and polite for that. "How are you feeling today then?"

"Better, thanks." I force out a smile, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. An awkward silence follows.

"Rikku, I'm sorry I made you go to the tryout," he sudden says. He sighs deeply, glancing out the window as he straightens the fabric of his jacket distractedly. "I should've respected the fact that you were uncomfortable."

I'm speechless for a second as I stare him, shocked that he would be the one to apologize when _he_ wasn't the one who carelessly dropped a friend's bundle of clothing on the ground and dashed out without a second thought. It makes me feel guilty as I observe his upset face, and with a nervous laugh I reply, "It's alright. It had nothing to do with you."

He gives me a weak smile, shoving his hands into his pocket before meeting my gaze. "Is something troubling you, then?"

I flinch. "It's fine."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm fine."

He nods, resolutely abandoning the question when he notices my slightly annoyed tone, making him realize that I'm in an uncomfortable state again. His face lights up briefly, as if he's about to ask me to go to the plaza for lunch or if I wanted to make a stop by the ice cream truck, but then his eyes suddenly narrow. And his expression is deeply solemn and serious. And that's when I realize he's staring intently at my bruised wrist. "What's that?"

I hide it behind my back impulsively. "Nothing," I say with a light laugh, "I fell." It's not exactly a major secret how I got the bruise, but there's really no need for him to know about Gippal and my rash decisions last night. It'll just give him more of a reason to think I'm a stupid Al Bhed if he doesn't think so already.

He doesn't believe me again, and gives me a half glare. Baralai never glares at me. "Fine." His tone is dull and emotionless.

I clutch onto the strap of my bag, fingering with the loose threads at its ends as I try to figure out how to talk normally with him again. He's a great classmate, but I'm not sure if we would make good friends outside of school; I'll probably just piss him off.

"There's a pizza special in the cafeteria."

I glance up at him nervously, the sudden change in topic a little startling and awkward. "That sounds nice."

"It is. Two for one deal. Do you want some?"

I nod, taking a step in his direction and we walk toward the stairs at the end of the hallway. The tension between us has dissipated by the time we walk though the staircase doors, replaced instead with light conversation and mild laughter as he tells me about Mr. Wakka's accidental stumble into the swimming pool last week.

**- - - - - - - -**

There's an orchid in her hair. LeBlanc's hair.

I learned her name this morning when one of her friends shouted it after her daily "_snobby Al Bhed slut_" remarks at me. Apparently, she's quite popular around the school, and the type to skip classes to hang around in the washroom gossiping and applying make up. She comes off as the typical bitch and the type to be able to seduce any man she chooses.

…Even a pony-tail-wearing man? Perhaps not. He seems too mature and darkly for her. They'd never work out.

I watch as she walks with the air of a queen down the sidewalk, two boys trailing behind her, one tall and one chubby, and two other girls on either side of her, carrying her bag and schoolbooks. She tousles her short blond hair casually every once in a while, turning her head to the sky as if expecting it to clear up and pull out the sun in honour of her presence.

At the corner of my eye, I see Yuna jumping up and down, waving at me as she runs my way. I turn from my spot on the curb of the sidewalk to greet her. Her smile is wide and triumphant, hair bouncing in the wind as she gleefully rushes toward me. She agreed to walk home with me today since she had to make a stop by the convenience store on my street. And considering that I hardly ever get to spend time with her, I jumped excitedly at the chance. Pops, after much careful debate, agreed it would be alright, as long as I got home on time.

I bend over to grab my bag on the ground and stand up. Behind her, I notice two blonde boys approaching as well. One of them I recognize as Tidus, her boyfriend whom I met at the flower shop the other day. And the other…

…Crap.

"Rikku!" Yuna exclaims, and I can see Gippal's eyebrow rise slightly in confusion.

I give her an awkward grin, standing up and embracing her back when she hugs me.

"Do you mind if Tidus and Gippal tag along?" she asks, pointing to Gippal standing behind her. "You know Tidus already—"

Tidus waves cheerfully. "Hey."

"—And this is Gippal. He's in Ms. Lulu's homeroom and—"

Gippal smirks slightly. "We've met."

"Oh."

I glance downward, my palms suddenly sweaty and I tug on the sleeve of my shirt to cover my wrist. I give Yuna an assuring smile. "Neighbours," I explain simply, avoiding her gaze and his.

"Really? Oh, that's right! You're both in the same building." She smiles sheepishly before clasping her hands together and then grabbing Tidus' arm. "Great! Then no time needed for introductions. We should go, before the store closes."

Tidus mumbles something about Yuna being paranoid as they turn to leave, and I impulsively reach for her arm, not wanting to be left behind with Gippal the whole walk home. Not that it would be a _terrible_ thing; it's just that we ended things awkwardly last night. And I'm not really in the mood to talk to him about anything really.

_Girls like you,_ he had said. As if he knew everything about me. As if he was my childhood friend and grew up alongside me and knew my likes and dislikes, my personality and attitude, my experiences and dreams. Piecing my face and a name and a stereotypical image of _girls like me_ and suddenly he thinks he knows all about me. Suddenly he thinks he's allowed to look at me with that smirk as if he's already got me all figured out.

He takes my hand before I'm able to reach Yuna's. I jump back immediately.

"Hey," he says, pulling away as well. In front of us, Yuna and Tidus are cuddling and laughing, completely oblivious to our exchange. Gippal looks at me with a serious face. "I just wanted to ask if your wrist is alright," he says in a sincere tone.

I glance up at him hesitantly before turning away and jogging lightly to catch up with Yuna.

Gippal follows me, his tone revealing more annoyance now. "What's wrong with you?" He adjusts the strap of his bag, cocking his head to the side to look at me. "You're not very friendly, y'know… _Reiko_," he says in a teasing sort of voice. The smirk on his face is back again, and I wonder if he's capable of any other expression but. He chuckles softly. "What? Mama didn't teach you manners?"

_**BAM!**_

My hands are frozen in the air where I had shoved him, mouth hung open in disbelief of what I had just done. My eyes are wide as I watch him grunt from his position on the pavement, a sort of fear in my chest. Around us, people have stopped momentarily to observe. I can feel Yuna and Tidus' looks on us as well. But all I can see is Gippal's tangled form half-lying on the ground, the brief flash of anger in his glare before he turns away from me with a cold shoulder.

"Hey, what happened?" Tidus asks, approaching us. I lower my hands, turning to face him guiltily. Tidus gives me a confused look before staring down at Gippal getting up. Then, he breaks into a nervous laugh. "Did you trip yourself, man?"

Gippal doesn't reply. His face has become dead serious and he walks past me without sparing the slightest glance. He pats Tidus' shoulder lightly and briefly skims his hands around Yuna's waist, whispering something to them both before walking away on his own. He doesn't turn back.

A sinking feeling churns inside of me, and I feel like collapsing to the ground and digging myself a bottomless pit to rot in. Not even two minutes into our conversation and I had succeeded in making a potential friend – a neighbour – into an enemy. An enemy who knows exactly where I live. An enemy who goes to my school.

An enemy who has held me against my will once already.

I break into tears without knowing, and Yuna's by my side instantly, soothing my sobs with gentle words and warm embraces. Tidus pats my back awkwardly, gently guiding us into a corner where no one can see.

I grip onto Yuna tightly, knowing after my cries subside, she's going to want to know what happened. Going to make me explain. And memories are going to lead to those years when she wasn't by my side to dry my tears. Years I'd spent in Bikanel without her protection and care to stabilize me. The day I decided I wanted to run to the end of the world. And maybe it's just an Al Bhed girl thing. Or a Rikku thing. Or a Blue Devil victim thing.

But I don't want to talk about it. So I cry for as long as I can.

**- - - - - - - -**

Aniki's homemade dinner isn't sitting so well in my stomach, so I leave to go out on the balcony to get some fresh air. It's cool outside this time of day, the sun hiding behind the clouds, and light rain that falls in a sort of weak drizzle over the city.

I'm tired. Yuna and Tidus walked me home, refraining from questioning me after Tidus made the deduction that Gippal was hitting on me – like he apparently does with many girls – and said something that went too far. He promised to give him a good slap to the back of the head for me tomorrow. I didn't bother correcting him of what really happened after he made that promise.

I sigh, leaning in the pillow of my arms on the edge of the rail, staring down at the building courtyard where there are still a few people sitting around. Some are smart and have umbrellas. Others are daring and like to dance in the rain, namely children. It'd be nice to be down there now, playing with them too. Jumping around in the puddles and waving my arms to Heaven and say, "_Look at me Mom, look what I can do!_"

I shiver suddenly at the thought.

Sometimes, I forget I don't like the rain. Rain that comes gushing down like there's no tomorrow. Soaking you all over deep into the soles of your shoes, and your socks make a sloshy sound when you walk. November rain, mostly. Because that's the snowy month. And rain is unusual. And things that aren't normal are unusual. Things that are wrong are unusual.

Rain's stupid anyway. Nothing romantic. Nothing beautiful. It's just cold water falling down. And yet I spot a couple down below, partly hidden behind the trees, holding hands and leaning close. I watch them with a slight frown. The way they seem so natural together, so… loving. The way she lets him reach up and touch her face. The way she leans her head against his chest. And neither of them have an umbrella either, 'cause they're stupid and think the rain is beautiful.

I sigh, turning around and heading inside. I hear the doorknobs clicking, and I smile as I realize Pops has finally come home. With excited steps, I run up to the door to greet him, slowing down when I get the uneasy feeling in my stomach again. The door opens and I see my dad, and he flashes me a grin as he takes the keys out of the lock.

But I'm not paying attention to him. I'm not grinning back. I'm staring behind him. Behind him where there is a man. Leaning against the wall, waiting. A familiar man. With a pony-tail. And he's looking at me.

"Rikku?" Pops closes the door, looking at me funny. "Wha's wrong, girl? Not happy to see yer Pops?"

I manage a small smile, hugging him slightly before numbly walking back to the balcony. The sight of that man made my stomach drop. I had never expected to see him again, and he's right outside my apartment. Right outside! As if he'd been… _following_ me. Stalking me… to find out where I live and –

"Rikku?" My father places a hand on my shoulder, looking at me concernedly now. "What's the matter, girl?" His tone is steady and protective.

I decide I'm overreacting and jumping to conclusions. If that man had really been waiting for me, he would've knocked by now or something… not just… stand there. He must be… waiting for a friend or something else...

"It's… nothing," I say, though I know Pops and Aniki have mutually agreed never to settle with that answer from me. So I clasp my hands together and force out a wide smile, pecking him on the cheek softly. "I'm fine, Daddy. Just… feeling sick." I nod toward the 'meal' on the kitchen counter, and that's enough to distract Pops and get him to go scowl at Aniki. I sneak back outside to the balcony, trying to shake off my childish worries.

A sigh escapes my mouth, the stress inside of me upon seeing that man mildly floats away with my breath. The rain is falling heavier now, and most of the people have gone inside. With the exception of the couple, who seem to be closer to each other more than ever now. With a small, amused smile, I lean my elbow on the rail and rest my head in my palm, staring down at them. They look so perfect for each other. And I'm suddenly a bit giddy as magical, happily-ever-after fairy tales come to mind. They're very lucky, I think, to be safe in each other's arms like that. And I watch with interest as the male makes a move to kiss her.

She slaps him.

With surprised eyes, I watch as she pushes the man off her and runs away from the courtyard in panic, through the rain and mud and puddles and all. The man simply stares after her, frozen in his spot. It's a sad sight really; and a little funny if you weren't feeling sad. Perhaps they weren't as happily-ever-after perfect as I thought.

It's then that I realize their faces and figures seem awfully familiar. Schoolmates maybe? Old neighbours? It's hard to tell from up here.

I jump back from the rail with a start when realization hits me. When the hair, the clothes… I've seen it before...! I shake my head and blink and squint, and that _really_ can't be… that really _can't_ be… _Paine_…. is it…?

… and _Gippal_?

* * *

_Thank you for reading. **Please Review.**_


	6. Author's Note

Hi everyone. I know I'm not really supposed to do this, but this "chapter" is actually quick message to say I'm planning to return to the fics I've left neglected and at least give you all an ending. These fics include: **Happenstance, Djose Days**, and **Three Stupid Words.**

My PM is always open for your comments or suggestions. Your interest is highly important to me and I do read every review, even 5 years later : ) Much has changed on this site since I left and my personal life as well, so it might take some time for me to get readjusted. I'm hesitant to make any promises other than I really want to finish what I started. I look forward to coming back : )


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